


trying something new.

by Prettything_uglylie



Series: yes i'm back on my criminal minds bullshit [4]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: (Disclaimer: i dont like amber heard, - like at ALL considering what has come forward about her mistreating johnny depp, Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Porn, Bottom Spencer Reid, F/M, Femdom, Fluff and Smut, Gentle Dom Lila, Gentle Sex, He Is Trying To Cope, He is perhaps addicted, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, It Isn't Working, Lila Archer Tries Really Hard, Mildly Dubious Consent, Pegging, Smut, Snippets, Spencer Reid Is Treated Well, This is set around the Hankel Case, actually tell me this didn't happen, as he should be, because Reid (i would say) is sober but he's still a drug addict, but this is Lila and I actually liked Lila quite a lot), still imma just add
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:08:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23344480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prettything_uglylie/pseuds/Prettything_uglylie
Summary: He lets out a small wounded noise and though she expects his arch away, she isn't expecting the way he arches back into her teeth again, like he craves the sting before continuing, sounding a bit embarrassed, "It feels good."
Relationships: Lila Archer/Spencer Reid
Series: yes i'm back on my criminal minds bullshit [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1599058
Comments: 6
Kudos: 81





	trying something new.

**Author's Note:**

> I actually don't know what this is but do I sometimes use Reid as my surrogate Tragedy-But-Wanting-To-Be-Fucked-Tenderly insert? Yes, I do. 
> 
> I hope you...liked this? Derived pleasure/angst from it? I don't know, I hope this gave you something.

"Spence," she breathes and he shivers in a way that makes her smile against the nape of his neck - she wonders momentarily if he can feel the warmth of her breath there, if it makes him feel a little warmer, "You need to stop squirming." 

He shifts his hips again and like a woman possessed by all the skin being bared to her, she smacks a hand down on the surprisingly soft skin of one of his cheeks and she relishes in both his surprised yelp and the flush of rose pink across the pale skin. His yelp makes her grin a bit but she pretends to tamp down her amusement, "You okay?" 

"Really funny, Lila," he mutters into the crimson fabric of her suite's pillowcase and her mind pulls forward memories of clasping his sizeable palm in hers as she had made to pull him into the pool. The memory of how powerful she had felt intertwining her gentle hand into his own before pulling him in, watching his slighter frame hit the course of the pool water and the way he had stuttered out the same words as his wet white dress-shirt had clung to him then, almost transparent sends heat to her core and leans down to ingrain her teeth tract into the gentle skin of his shoulder. 

He lets out a small wounded noise and though she expects his arch away, she isn't expecting the way he arches back into her teeth again, like he craves the sting before continuing, sounding a bit embarrassed, "It feels good." 

"Just good or really good?" She teases, every lick of his noises and her settling into just the situation they were in settling in her core - he had called her voice a little distant in the same way that it goes when his head gets lost in cases and he had tried to sound normal, unaffected, she had been unnerved by it and called him on it quickly, when he had told her 'kind of a tough case...downtown LA though...'. She had scolded him teasingly for not telling her sooner and his 'I'm sorry' was instant in a way that both sent chills down her spine and made heat drip from her core; it was something about him, she assumed, he had such an easy submission than most men but there was still something...something that felt untameable. 

She had told him to come to see her, giving him the address of her new bungalow - she couldn't stand to be in the other one and picture Maggie walking the halls without anyone knowing, even if the bit of whimsical appreciation she felt in her chest when staring out at the pool made her feel warm. - and he had come, no hesitation, always listening to others, _beautiful Spence._

Even though she cared for him dearly, she did not ask about the bags under his eyes or his instant distraction when she had gotten his shirt off and she had thought she had seen something in the maltreated skin of his right elbow. 

She had seen enough drug addicts in her time in L.A to recognize the ticks as she had collected herself into the harness of the strap-on and he had begun to run the elongated bone of his fingernail against the plush pull of his bottom lip and his alternative hand went to scratch at the frail bones of his ribcage with digits that were entirely too close to the crease for her liking. 

_He's not eating,_ she had thought ruefully by the exposed bones there, _and he's not sleeping that well either, by the almost bruise-like bags rimming his eyes and he's probably on something. Something,_ she thinks, feeling lighter and more ghost-like the more she stares at his ivory skin, _that has hurt you._

She doubts his team is there.

She doubts there is a case.

Something about the way his cupid's bow shakes around the word 'case' tells her so more than an actual confession would. 

When she stands at the foot of the bed to hook everything together, she sees the stripes of broken skin healing across the bottom of his foot. 

_Who did this to you?_ She screams internally and wonders where the thought comes from but she sidles down on him nonetheless - even if her instincts are screaming to wrap him up in her way-too-expensive comforters, make him a cup of tea and stroke his hair until he falls asleep. _After_ , she tells herself but the young agent is jolty in a way she's never seen him - _addict,_ her brain reminds her solemnly - to the point where she wonders if he will flee after. 

This is not like the other time they had done this, when his boss had tossed a set of keys to a black SUV into his wired chest and said 'make sure to leave on time' and he had muttered back _thanks Hotch_ with rosy cheeks. When he had been left behind by his team, the girl member - Lila had always meant to learn her name out of mutual respect for her 'girl power' attitude but had never remembered to ask - laying her tawny hand against his upper arm, citing 'nice going, tiger' and though his smirk had been believable enough when the smart man had glanced at him, Derek Morgan was not an actor in the same way Lila was and she knows how to read jealousy from a mile away: something about the way he looked at Spencer told her that she wasn't the one being longed for, but she had brushed it all aside.

She didn't know if his team knew where he was now. 

The other time, when Spencer had cupped her face in a narrow palm and pulled her into a kiss that he had to keep leaning out of because his face had gone a hot shade of red and he was panting like kissing her made him forget how to breathe and it made her ridiculously fond of him. The other time when he had taken her gently, hands shaking around the generous tube of lubricant as he prepared her generously. The other time, when she had carded her hands into his hair and _pulled_ which had yanked the cord of a moan from his throat and she had wanted to flip them over and ride him until he swore, until he lost control perhaps, until he cried. She hadn't. She didn't want to scare him. 

She wasn't sure how this version of him scared her but it clung to his cool skin - he had been flustered the first time they had done this but even after the nervousness began to ebb away, his skin was still warm. This time, it had felt cool and chalky like waking up in a cool sweat. She felt like she didn't know what or who she was looking at from some angles. 

The other time, he had curled her into his chest, the arm across her back hesitant as he stared into her eyes, his own cinnamon orbs questioning if he was crossing a line and when she had given him a gentle smile, he had pulled her closer and brushed a hand across a strand of disorganized hair. 

She wasn't sure if that was going to exist this time. 

She pushes into him with a little more focus and cuts off his remark with a surprised cuss that makes her soaked beneath the rubber of the strap as he reaches down to touch himself and something about the blatant move makes her both sad and horny. That he would feel so desperate as to do it without asking her makes her bite back a groan, knowing how much he likes it but the sadness settles in the corner of her mind, knowing how unlike _Spence_ that is - hell, when they had been doing this for the first time, he had stumbled over the word 'buttons' when asking if he could undo her shirt. His hands had looked good caught on the pattern, their large piano-hand frame a contrast against everything about the agent that was all small, gentle and worn-in - something about them felt like stars that you could see pinpricking the sky during the day. The young doctor felt like something cosmic. 

A stern thrust sends plastic into her clit, pulling a moan from her lips that makes Spencer's hand speed up so she begins to rock in time, calculate her thrusts by how often his hips jerk back and forth to her movements. 

The pace is a quick one, that makes Reid moan and pant loudly similarly to that she's seen in porn and it makes her headboard bounce rhythmically but it sends the plastic grinding against her clit which is bringing her over the edge and the genius' head hanging between his shoulders as he shakes, on the edge as well, is getting her closer. 

She isn't surprised when she comes but she is surprised it's before him as she soaks the material, her thrusts hesitate, hips still fucking him leisurely and the model evaluates him before her. His head hangs there and she can tell by the way his thighs shake and one of his arms has fallen to his cock while the other holds him up, that he is hesitating on making himself cum. 

Her hand is gentle when she pries his own away before stroking and leaning over his back, the strap still buried inside his tight walls as she murmurs in his ear, "Cum for me, baby. You deserve this." 

He makes a broken sound somewhere between a sob and one of his higher-pitched moans. She almost doesn't mind not being able to see his face from where his arm dropped him facefirst into the pillow when she had begun to stretch herself over his back and his long bangs acting as a curtain - without seeing his face, she thinks he might be crying. 

But he cums. 

He cums and a part of her feels like she is saying goodbye to something when she untucks the strap-on from her waist and his walls but she cleans them both up and when she steps out of the ensuite bathroom, she catches his large, cosmic contrast hands against his tired eyes and she knows he was crying.

She makes them tea. 

He doesn't drink his.

His body is stiff when she holds him. 

_The frame of a dead man,_ she realizes. 

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was disorienting to write tbh because it started off super fluffy but then,,, went somewhere. 
> 
> But I hope you ... got something from this? 
> 
> Kudos and comments are appreciated and encouraged!


End file.
